I'm at some bar in brklyn... just made out with a guy named Owen.
He is a pre-school teacher... just sang me a song about weather.
I need a booty call who doesn't know my boyfriend or my friends.
I consider it a successful poop when you only have to wipe once.
Could you please tell them to stop whispering "thundercunt" every time I walk in the room?
I don't think he grasps the fact that I would much rather he finish inside me than on my $400 Anthropolgie bedspread
With any luck I will spend the duration of this flight with my tray table up my seatbelt securely fastened and my face in his lap
I know you claim to have a large penis but I do not believe in what i cannot see. Sort of like god.
He told his ice cream cone it 'looked cute' and then started to cry. The Dairy Queen people were not pleased.
Listen to my proposal.... I feed you crackers while I fuck you ever so gently.
Oh my god, I totally forgot we call your penis "Godzilla's Tail".
Do you deliver to the black dark pit where I am? I think it's called.... The toilet? Right next to hell...
So both cops helped talk her into coming back into the bar and doing a shot with me. The main argument being, "a bar is no place to be sober!"
There's no button for "gave my boyfriend's cock to a friend" on my intimacy calendar.
I'm on my third roll of toilet paper. Today can fuck right off.
I'll be back in a hour going with Jason to get his nipples tattooed back on again
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